


Squirrel Night

by FanficAllergy



Series: Patchwork - 50 Theme Challenge [6]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort Food, Family Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Introspection, POV Peeta Mellark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficAllergy/pseuds/FanficAllergy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta's favorite night of the week is also his least favorite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Squirrel Night

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**oOo**

 

**Title:**    Squirrel Night  
 **Theme:** 07: Hate  
 **Words:** 870  
 **Summary:** Dinner at the Mellarks. Mentions of child abuse in here. It features Mrs. Mellark so really there's not a lot I can do about that.

 

**oOo**

 

Squirrel Night was Peeta's favorite night of the week, but at the same time it had the misfortune of being his least favorite.

 

He loved it for so many reasons.

 

The first was, if he was lucky, he'd be able to spot Katniss trading with his father in the morning for bread or cheese buns or a few times a cookie or two. She never bargained and the hard, wary expression she carried ever since her father died seemed to lessen for a little bit. He noticed that most of the time, if given a choice, Katniss would pick the thick hearty bread made with fruit and nuts. The same bread he'd burned for her all those years ago.   It was their bread and he thought, hoped, that she picked it because of him.  

 

The second reason he loved it was because it was a welcome change to the monotony of his diet. Most nights his mother cooked the meager meal they ate of stale bread and whatever she'd managed to get on sale at the grocer's. But on Squirrel Night his father cooked dinner and it never was the same recipe twice in a row. There was a hearty squirrel stew with garlic and onions thickened with bread and served with a dusting of cheese purloined from the next day's cheese buns.   Then there were little triangles of dough with just a dollop of squirrel meat in the center that were then deep fried and served with a thick gravy made from the water the squirrel was boiled in to remove the meat. And then there was his favorite dish, squirrel pot pie with potatoes and carrots and peas with a flaky crust and thick gravy. It was so different from the normal meals of bread, broth, and tea that he was used to that he'd dream about squirrel pot pie.

 

The third reason was that because his father cooked on Squirrel Night, he got to help in the kitchen. His mother hated people bothering her in the kitchen so he and his brothers learned to be elsewhere until she called them for dinner in an impatient tone.   Once his father skinned the squirrel, Peeta or one of his brothers got to help his father make whatever delicacy they were going to be having that night. He loved carefully measuring the herbs into the pot of boiling water that the squirrel would go into for several hours until the meat literally fell off of the bones. He loved mixing the roux and watching it turn to the proper golden brown before adding the herbs and broth to make the gravy.   He loved being able to suck on the squirrel bones after his father had stripped all the meat from them. He loved rolling out the crust.

 

And then there were the smells. Living in a bakery all his life meant that the smell of baking bread and pastries didn't have the same happy memories associated with them as they did for his friends.   But on Squirrel Night, he could revel in the smells: onions browning in butter; rich broth seasoned with garlic, rosemary, and thyme; and fresh meat pie with a rich flaky crust.   It was almost the best thing about Squirrel Night. Almost.

 

No, the best thing about Squirrel Night was watching all of the strain and stress melt off his father's shoulders like butter in a hot pan.   Peeta had always known that his parents' marriage wasn't a happy one. That his father only married his mother out of obligation, not love. That he'd loved another woman who didn't love him back and ended up marrying another. On Squirrel Night, his father seemed to forget that he had a shrew of a wife and his false smiles became real ones.  

 

Peeta also came to dread Squirrel Night for one very simple reason.

 

His mother hated Squirrel Night.

 

Throughout dinner, she'd make snide little comments about the food, the squirrel, whatever she could find fault with.   She'd try to pick a fight with anyone who managed to cross her path. It didn't matter if it was her husband or one of her sons, anyone was fair game. Peeta suspected that it was because his father loved Squirrel Night so much. Or maybe it was because Katniss was the daughter of the woman his father was in love with. He didn't know and in the end it didn't matter.   More Squirrel Nights than he cared to think about he'd end up going to bed with a black eye or a bloody lip because of his mother's ire.   He'd learned at a young age that the best way to avoid getting slapped was to finish his meal quickly and not say anything about the food. The first time he'd complimented his father's cooking his mother took it as an insult to her cooking and turned on him like a rabid dog. He never gave his father a compliment in earshot of his mother again.  

 

Still, Peeta looked forward to Squirrel Night about as much about as his father did because in Panem you had to take the bad with the good, and that was especially true in the Mellark house.

 

**oOo**

**Author's Note:**

> AN:   
> Written: 10/10/14  
> Revised: 10/12/14  
> Beta Read by: RoseFyre
> 
> Inspired by "No Reservations" Ozarks episode where Tony skins and eats squirrel pot pie and I went, I bet this is what Peeta ate. Then thought about it and went, I bet his mom hated when his dad got a squirrel from Katniss. 
> 
> Not the best piece I've written.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
